


Tender Touch

by NicoleAnell



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-18
Updated: 2012-02-18
Packaged: 2017-11-04 20:52:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/398095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NicoleAnell/pseuds/NicoleAnell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set after Lay Down Your Burdens.  Written for bsg_kink, prompt: trust, gentleness, tender touch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tender Touch

He is fragile in a way she often overlooked. It's not until she has her arms around him, her chin pleasantly resting on his shoulder, that she realizes his entire body is shaking. It's been so long since she had any human in her arms, since she had *him* in the tangible flesh and not the echo in her mind, she almost wonders,  _Was it always like this? Did I forget?_  
  
But he starts to calm once they're alone together, the threat of extermination fading every second. It's a pity there was no way to warn him, warn any of them, but of course they had to take the planet by surprise. Their show of force scared the battlestars away in seconds. (There will be a meeting, she realizes. They will argue over whether it's worth pursuing them as well. She'll have to argue to leave them, focus on defense only.) She gave him every signal she could when he wept and surrendered.  
  
"What have I done?" he asks quietly. It's not a rhetorical question. She strokes his cheek, his tired and drunk and beautiful face. His eyes are marvelling, searching.  
  
"They're taking over communications right now," she explains. "Electricity, water - there'll be improvements, sooner than you think. No one will be hurt. If they follow your example... this is what we wanted." He's nodding, far away.  
  
"Why should I trust you?" he asks sincerely, the "you" ambiguous but hurtful.  _Tell me to trust you._  He won't. He has no reason-  
  
"I have no reason to lie to you," she says, a flash of inspiration. She makes herself continue: "You asked what you've done. What you had to. The right thing. You'll always do the right thing." This isn't quite true, the  _always_  part, but it seems the best to say. She does have a reason to lie, sometimes.  
  
He nods and he kisses her then. It's unexpectedly soft, chaste, more tenderness than passion. Did he always, did she forget? They move laboriously to the bed, more tentative and anticipatory than she ever remembers it being. He sits, she stands, unbuttoning his shirt. Too much contact, too fast, and they will lose control of themselves.  
  
"Give me your hand, Gaius," she says, and his fist instinctively clenches and travels away from her, just for a second, just because she asked. "Gaius," she says again, but doesn't need to repeat anything else -- he offers it. She kisses each of his fingers and watches them relax; he closes his eyes and exhales. She shimmies out of her pants, an awkward gesture -- it was dresses before, she remembers, dresses and lingerie, and she was graceful then -- but she takes his hand again and brings it between her thighs. There's a tremor, and she can't tell which of them is shaking now.  
  
"I can't believe..." he whispers, but he doesn't finish the sentence.   
  
When he enters her she wants to dig her nails into his back but instead she caresses him with her palms, kisses the sweat from his temple.  _This is the real beginning_ , she thinks, with a certainty and pride she hasn't felt since they first made love.  _This is how it's meant to be._


End file.
